


Four Seasons

by bloomgloomy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, My Unit | Byleth Twins, Pre-Time Skip, Slow Burn, Soft Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27131524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomgloomy/pseuds/bloomgloomy
Summary: While Professor Byleth of the Blue Lions is a skilled mercenary and inspiring mentor, he has a penchant for blunt honesty and miscommunication. His twin sister and teaching assistant, Alythia, has no renown for fighting but was known for offering valuable counsel to students, nobles and academy council alike.Byleth was the strength the Blue Lions followed. Alythia was the tactician and heart behind their strides. They were two halves of one whole, completing each other's weaknesses with their strengths. After being dependent on each other their whole lives, Alythia and Byleth learn to grow, forge their own destiny and fall in love.[Azure Moon Route, F!BylethxFelix, M!BylethxDimitri]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	1. The Tactician

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for picking this fic!   
> A few things to note: 
> 
> \- I know Beresu is f!Byleth's real name but I wanted to rename her to set a contrast for the twins' personalities  
> \- Alythia is the older twin who was born normally  
> \- Byleth was given Sitri's crest. He's the only who can communicate with Sothis  
> \- Will follow Blue Lions Route, pre- & the time skip
> 
> Any comments or reviews are appreciated! Thank you so much :)

Sylvain moved restlessly in his seat as he chewed on his quill and stared at the chalkboard. Gods, these wooden benches were so uncomfortable. Professor Byleth’s lecture was nearly over and he was counting down the minutes before meeting the newest noble girl he was romancing. While the professor was explaining a promising gambit strategy the rest of the class was mesmerized by, Sylvain’s mind wandered thinking about promising dating strategies.  
  
The school bell echoed, signaling the end of the lecture. Sylvain pounced to the front of the class, much to Byleth’s surprise. While he didn’t show much emotion, Sylvain detected the tell-all twitch of annoyance in Byleth’s stiffening shoulders.  
  
“Professor Byleth, Professor Byleth,” Sylvain crooned, drumming his hands on the lecture podium. His classmates stare blankly, knowing the routine to unfold. Byleth did his best to suppress a sigh, expecting yet another non-lecture related question from his student. Academics never made Sylvain this enthusiastic.  
  
“Do you have a question pertaining to gambits, Mr. Gautier?” Byleth cleared his throat as he quickly packed away his texts, hoping to escape the scene.  
  
“As a matter of fact… Nope!” Sylvain declared proudly and winked. Byleth had trouble expressing his emotions but after dealing with Sylvain’s antics for months, Byleth’s face was well acquainted with disbelief and disgust.  
  
“Ok, so I've been trying to win the heart of this girl I've been seeing. But none of the fancy gifts or the usual sweet lines are working. Is there another strategy I can deploy to take down her defenses? What kind of tactic is best to win her heart?” Sylvain explained thoughtfully as Byleth scowled. All this dating nonsense went into one ear and out the other.  
  
“You can.. Try and have a meaningful conversation with her,” said Byleth. This was the best answer Byleth could muster, not that he cared whether or not Sylvain was successful in his pursuit.  
  
Sylvain’s smile flattened into a straight line, unsatisfied. Although the Professor was not as experienced in the romance department, his answer didn’t have anything Sylvain could work with.  
  
“Alythia!” Sylvain rushed to the teaching assistant, his eyes wide and innocent like a puppy’s, “Miss Alythia, what do you think I should do?”  
  
Alythia smiled nervously, feeling her brother’s scorn on her back. She knew Byleth didn’t want to encourage Sylvain’s antics, but she loved helping her students inside and outside the classroom. Felix glared at Sylvain for interrupting his conversation with Alythia, as he was seeking help to understand Byleth’s gambit strategy.  
  
“Well, have you tried ignoring her?” Alythia came up with an answer that could hopefully satisfy both Sylvain and her brother.  
  
“Huh?” Sylvain’s face drooped, struggling to understand why and how he could leave a maiden alone.  
  
“If you immerse yourself in your studies for a semester,” Alythia explained, “Maybe she’ll miss you and be desperate for attention.”  
  
Felix glanced at the front of the classroom and Byleth holding both fists victoriously, eyes shining with triumph. On the other hand, Sylvain shared similar emotions, pumping his hands into the air.  
  
“This!!! This is the most genius gambit!” Sylvain laughed, excited to apply what he learned. He leaned into his mentor’s face, smirking devilishly, “Miss Alythia, are you stealing me from the other girls? In that case, I’ll be sure to spend more time with my darling. Come, let us discuss how to improve our relations over Bergamot.”  
  
“Miss Alythia is not your darling,” Byleth’s deep voice strained, his tall figure loomed over Sylvain, “but seeing how you want to be so studious, you can devote yourself to me, Mr. Gautier. Come to afternoon tea now.”  
  
“Oh, Profesor Byleth, as much as I really want to, I can’t--”  
  
“Were you not offering Bergamot to Miss Alythia just now? Let us take our leave and take advantage of your free time,” Professor Byleth held his briefcase under one arm and dragged Sylvain with the other. Sylvain looked at his classmates desperately for help, who just snickered at his deserving defeat, then looked at his arm and remembered a rumor about wolves chewing off their legs to escape traps.  
  
“Don’t even think about chewing your arm off,” Byleth scolded, “You’d embarrass the Blue Lions trying to wield an axe one-handed.”  
  
Felix smirked. Finally, there was retribution for Sylvain shamelessly interrupting his studies and flirting with Miss Alythia. At first, Felix didn’t care for a useless teaching assistant. After all, she didn’t wield a sword and had no talent for it.  
  
Felix was only interested in sparring with Byleth and requested relentlessly, wanting to come face-to-face with the famous Ashen Demon. It wasn’t until when Byleth flipped Felix and left him lying on the training grounds for pestering him that he realized they were in completely different leagues. On that day, Alythia crouched next to Felix and invited him to tea. Felix begrudgingly accepted, only wanting to learn how to catch up to the Professor and swear Alythia to secrecy about his swift and sad defeat. But when they departed with closing remarks, he realized he was genuinely enjoying Alythia’s company.  
  
Unlike Professor Byleth, who was hard to read, Alythia had no problem expressing how she felt. On the contrary, she had trouble hiding her emotions. No tricks up her sleeve-- just her honest and true self.  
  
Alythia was in charge of answering the advice box in the monastery. The school council discovered her fervor as a counselor to students, so the appointment was a no-brainer. Since Alythia started managing the advice box, she was flooded with questions and invitations to afternoon tea every day. She knew the best way to navigate the conversation and bond with everyone, even with Dedue who could barely exchange more than a word.  
  
Office hour tea with Professor Byleth on the other hand, felt forced. He was curt, simple and straightforward. While that trait made him an excellent lecturer and teacher, many students found it difficult to connect with him. Felix heard from Ashe that during tea time, Professor Byleth somehow managed to derail the conversation about literature to ghosts. Poor Ashe was so frightened by whatever Professor Byleth said, the whole academy now believes a ghoul curses the Greenhouse soil and wanders the west campus.  
  
“I’m sorry about that interruption, Felix. Would you like me to explain Professor Byleth’s gambit over tea?” Alythia asked. Her soft voice was like a music box, each word like a note trickling into his ear.  
  
“I’m terribly busy today and this would cut into my training time,” Felix rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He looked away from Alythia, hiding his face, “but since Sylvain’s stupid antics delayed us, I have no choice.”  
  
“Ah, thank you for understanding,” Alythia reached into her bag and took out a small tea tin, “I went to the shops this morning and luckily, they were selling Almyran Pine! Don’t worry, it’s my treat.”  
  
“Well, I suppose that could make up for it,” Felix shrugged, pretending he wasn’t flattered she remembered his favorite tea.


	2. Rally

Alythia sat on the stone steps outside the classroom, pondering answers for the advice box. She frowned at the stack of unread cards and wondered how many of them were just puns that Alois slipped in. Failed attempt after another to make Jeralt and Byleth acknowledge his jokes, Alois found delight in Alythia’s pity laughs. From then on, he made sure she would hear **all** his jests.  
  
“To even show reaction to Alois’s stupidity is a sign of weakness,” Jeralt warned her, “Child, you have brought an onslaught of terror that even I cannot rescue you from. I wish you luck.”

Alythia unenthusiastically shuffled through the stack and realized most of today’s batch belonged to Alois. 

_‘Why did everyone think the Garreg Mach Ball was a joke? Because it had a big punch line!’_

_‘I asked the blacksmith to forge a sword with two handles, but then realized it was pointless.’_

_‘Why do cows have hooves instead of feet? Because they lactose.’_

She never threw anything into the trash bin so fast. Alythia picked up the last card of the evening and sighed gratefully. Oh gods, thank you. This one isn’t a pun. 

_‘M_ _y fellow students have called me dour. They say I should joke around more often. But what's the point in that?’_

One face popped into Alythia’s mind. This was definitely Felix. He was as stubborn as he was handsome. Felix would often give her the cold shoulder, but Alythia didn’t mind too much. It was annoying when he pretended that she’s wasting his time, but he warmed up immediately by chatting about hunting and Byleth’s fighting techniques. 

She smiled and wrote her response, knowing what type of reply could satisfy him. After learning more about each student, she realized what everyone needed was someone to listen. They were each different people with individual preferences, likes and dislikes. There was a right way to encourage them in class, whether it was to console or critique. 

Knowing that Felix responded positively to things that relate to combat, she picked her approach carefully: 

_‘It can help settle pre-battle nerves.’_

Alythia shrugged as she filed away her cards. So much has happened since their family settled into Garreg Mach. For god knows how many years, Jeralt and Byleth traveled as sellswords and risked their lives to afford food, clothing and shelter for their family. Byleth had a talent to wield weapons and Alythia worked behind the scenes, strategizing and observing the enemy to decide the best approach to attack. Without guidance, Byleth would charge straight in and attract the attention of all surrounding enemy units (which he has definitely done before and Jeralt was unhappy about).

Before becoming Professor, Byleth was... emotionless. He was the Ashen Demon, the unrelenting and unyielding force that destroyed everyone in his path. Some days, Alythia would find Byleth talking to someone who wasn’t there. Byleth tried to explain there was a mysterious girl in his dreams, but couldn’t go into much detail about it. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep a secret, he didn’t know how to talk about it. Something about Divine Pulses. 

Jeralt often mentioned that when Alythia was born, she brought brightness into her parents’ hearts. And so, their mother named her Alythia, meaning verity. Hoping that one day, other hearts could also accept the pure light Alythia brought to her parents. Byleth was born right after Alythia, and Jeralt granted the name of one of the most powerful demons found in stories, hoping one day he would possess a similar strength.

While other people couldn’t understand Byleth, she could read him like a book. All you have to do is look in his eyes. But months after teaching at Garreg Mach, Byleth’s passion for his students manifested physically. Even the class noticed it when he scowled at Sylvain’s stories about his multiple admirers. Chuckled at Annette’s mnemonic song to help her memorize formulas before a quiz. Admired Dedue’s tales of his homeland and culture. Curiously tasted Ashe’s cooking. Argued with Felix about sword techniques while training. Prayed respectfully with Mercedes. Encouraged Ingrid to pursue her dream of knighthood. And, based on Alythia’s observations, he felt love when Dimitri declared victory for the Blue Lions. 

‘My little brother is growing up,’ Alythia thought to herself as she headed back to the dorm, ‘Will I find love too?’ 

She stopped and felt a shiver run down her spine. There was a tall figure coming closer and closer to her… Alythia recalled a story Ashe told her over tea time about a ghost that haunted the west wing of the school. 

* * *

Felix exited the training grounds after his evening session and grunted in dissatisfaction. Though he committed to his swordsmanship daily, it felt like he would never catch up to Byleth’s mastery. 

From afar, he saw a figure approach in the distance. Who else would be up this late? He hesitated a moment, recalling Ashe’s baseless claims about a wandering west wing ghost. It’s fine, he thought to himself, clutching the sword hilt on his hip and pushed forward. A cold sweat broke on his forehead. He felt the clothes on his back feel warmer as he came closer. The evening fog made it difficult to see clearly, but the shadow grew closer. 

“Felix?” 

A familiar soothing voice broke through the silence of the night. 

“Alythia?” 

“I thought you were the west wing ghost,” She laughed, relieved that the mystery figure didn’t haunt the halls. 

“Y-You are too gullible to believe Ashe’s childish stories,” Felix stammered, trying to conceal the fact he was taken off guard, “Those are just tales that Professor Byleth schemes to scare the weak.”

“Even so,” Alythia smiled, “I’m glad that it was you.” 

Felix felt his heart feel heavy. The cold sweat returned to his forehead and suddenly his clothes felt too hot again. This feeling he felt earlier was fear for the ghost, why were the symptoms returning?  
  
The fog dissolved as an azure moon peeked from behind the white clouds. The moonlight shined on Alythia’s hair, reflecting its deep blue color. Funny, he didn’t notice it was blue. It always seemed black in the classroom.

Alythia looked up at him and for the first time, noticed the height difference between them. Was he always that tall? He was always sitting down in class or at tea time. She peered into his golden brown eyes and felt herself grow warm. 

“Your advice,” She exclaimed and shoved the card into his hands. For once, she couldn’t find a conversation topic to expertly navigate to, “It’s anonymous but I realized it was you once I read it. Have a good evening, I’ll see you in lecture tomorrow.” 

Alythia hurried away before he could form thoughts. Felix stood there, frozen. He felt warmer and warmer from his embarrassment. Goddess, she **_knew_ ** it was him just from reading the note? He cursed at Mercedes, who encouraged him to use the advice box in the first place. Anonymous, my ass. 

Felix peered down to read the card.

His penmanship was neat: _‘_ _My fellow students have called me dour. They say I should joke around more often. But what's the point in that?’_

In delicate cursive, Alythia wrote: _‘It can help settle pre-battle nerves.’_

Felix smiled. He was satisfied with that answer. But wait, there was a second card stuck to his request. That can’t be correct, he only submitted one question. Felix’s face twisted into disgust as he read the card. The handwriting was unlike Alythia’s. This was scrawled like chicken scratch:  
  
 _‘I asked the blacksmith to forge a sword with two handles, but then realized it was pointless.’_

Was... This the joke that Alythia wanted him to say to his fellow students? He shuddered, a part of him wishing he met the west wing ghost that night instead. 

* * *

Byleth was the sole faculty member participating in the mock battle. While the other professors watched on the sidelines, Alythia stayed behind to prep next week’s lesson plans. The month leading up to the Battle of Eagle and Lion, Alythia prepped the class on the Black Eagles’ and Golden Deers’ positioning and strategy. Based on the opposing house leaders’ personalities, Alythia was able to predict their advancements, which Byleth was incredibly grateful for. 

“Alythia, you won’t _believe_ what Felix said today before the mock battle,” Sylvain marched into her room, one Blue Lion trickled in after the other. Everyone was bustling and chattering, transforming her lonely dorm into a festive venue. 

Felix grumbled and punched Sylvain on the shoulder, “If you tell her I will kill you.”

Annette giggled and chimed, “I told everyone how nervous I was before the battle, so Felix asked if we wanted to hear a joke.”  
  
“Is that so? What did he say?” Alythia chuckled, glancing at Felix’s face that was getting visibly more irritated.

“He said, _I asked the blacksmith to forge a sword with two handles, but then realized it was pointless!”_ Sylvain’s eyes welled up with tears from laughing too hard, “It caught everyone so off guard, the other houses thought we were out of our minds!”

Alythia froze, realizing that when she lost her composure, she accidentally shoved one of Alois’s jokes with Felix’s request card. But oh, what a glorious accident. 

“It was so silly and uncharacteristic, but it made me forget my nerves,” Mercedes beamed, twirling her skirt around, “Felix, you should consider continuing this routine.” 

“I concur, I have never seen His Highness so spirited in battle,” Dedue nodded, “Perhaps Felix should prepare more opening lines for upcoming auxiliary.”

“That is true, Felix’s words gave me the strength to charge forward boldly,” Dimitri adjusted his collar and stifled a laugh as he recalled Felix’s pre-battle opening. 

“I would love to hear Felix’s rally speech before **_every_ ** battle,” Ingrid grinned deviously, nudging Sylvain with her elbow. Felix’s childhood friends were enjoying this too much. 

“This will be the last and only time you will hear me spout such nonsense,” Felix barked. 

“Professor Byleth, what do you think?” Ashe’s hand motioned for their mentor to speak. The Blue Lions looked to him hopefully as Felix wallowed angrily in the back. 

“Well, it would be most unfair to expect Mr. Fraldarius to deliver a speech before each battle,” said Byleth. While the Blue Lions groaned in disappointment and Felix continued to fume at his classmates, Dimitri and Alythia were taken aback by Byleth’s smile, which flashed for a moment. 

Dimitri cleared his throat, “Professor, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face like that…. Can you make that expression one more time?”  
  
The room fell silent as everyone looked to him in anticipation. He glanced at Alythia, who nodded in encouragement. Facial expressions were still a foreign concept, and while he didn’t think much of them, he wanted to humor and fulfill the curiosity in his students. Byleth looked at Dimitri, who seemed to be the most excited. Like calm sea foam sliding onto sand to kiss the shells, Byleth felt a warmth grow inside him.  
  
Byleth smiled. His students, enraptured by his reaction, smiled in return.  
  
“I apologize, Professor Byleth. I didn’t mean to tease you,” Dimitri explained, captivated by Byleth’s smile. His cheeks reddened, “I’ve never seen you look so happy before. It’s mesmerizing.”  
  
“In that case… Perhaps from now on, it is best practice for Mr. Fraldarius to rally the house with a pre-battle quip,” Byleth teased, his smile still lingering.

“I will kill all of you and then put in a transfer request tomorrow,” Felix grumbled as his teammates cheered. Felix glanced at Alythia, who clasped her hands together nervously. He sighed, feeling defeated but at the same time, grateful. 

“Come, everyone,” Professor Byleth motioned everyone to take leave, “Let us feast and continue our celebration.”

The celebration of their victory at the Battle of Eagle and Lion was still beginning. 


	3. Lure

Alythia cast her reel into the pond and watched the float bounce on the surface. She reflected on last week’s Heron Cup as she watched the ripples push out and dwindle. In the month of Ethereal Moon, the academy’s calendar was flooded with events after the other. Professor Byleth and Alythia joyously took part in festivities despite being knee-deep in academic work and responsibility. 

Before Professor Byleth even managed to make a full stride into the Knight’s Hall and a _hello_ , Dimitri assumed a defensive position. 

_‘Professor, I beg of you. Please do not choose me as the house representative. I am utterly serious,’_ Dimitri said firmly. 

_‘You are our dancer,’_ Professor Byleth said, his eyes flickered with amusement. He crossed his arms and looked down at the prince.

Dimitri stumbled back as if those words swept his feet. His hands caressed his temples as he struggled to find an appropriate response. _‘I will respect your wishes but just so you know, you have damned us all.’_

 _‘Dimitri, lead us well,’_ Professor Byleth declared and took his leave. Alythia entered the hall in timed fashion. Dimitri wiped off his trademark smile when the Professor was out of sight and approached Alythia coldly with a glare. 

He narrowed his eyes, knowing who was really pulling the strings. Byleth was Professor, but Alythia was a cunning puppet master, even rivaling the mind of Claude. She was a coiled snake calculating each second to determine the most opportune moment to strike, cumulating an artillery through a veil of innocent tea and advice. Not that Dimitri thought so lowly of her, of course, but he was certain to curse her behind this wretched setup. She knew if the Professor asked, Dimitri would follow.

Alythia raised her hands innocently, shaking her head, _‘My exact words to Professor Byleth were, ‘Dimitri is undoubtedly the most charming of the Blue Lions, but we would succeed only if you train with him closely and daily. Perhaps Annette is the more suitable choice.’ But you know, he was adamant in choosing you. He said no one else can assume this role.’_

The gears in Dimitri’s head clicked and his face grew hot at the thought of spending more time with Professor Byleth and… dancing closely with the Professor. The snake found an opportunity and he was gracious for it. He cleared his throat and regained his composure, feeling embarrassed and happy, _‘Then I will lead us well.’_

 _‘We know, Dimitri’_ She said, exiting the hall and hummed a waltzy tune. 

That year of the Heron Cup, the Blue Lions won unanimously. All was going according to plan. 

“Miss Alythia, nothing to report today,” The gatekeeper marched next to her and saluted. His interruption pulled her back to the present, “Any good catches?”

“Nothing yet,” replied Alythia, reeling back the line to recast further. It was so unfair that Byleth possessed all the great physical qualities. Fighting and fishing were second nature to him, just like their father. 

“Well, is there a good catch you want?” The gatekeeper cleared his throat and looked around cautiously. He leaned in to whisper, “I am not one to spread rumors, but I heard the students talking about the legend of the Goddess Tower. Have you heard of it?”

Alythia’s ears perked up, “You caught my attention. Please elaborate.”

“On the last night of the Ethereal Moon, on the same night as the ball... If two people go to the Goddess Tower and make a wish, it's sure to come true!” cried the gatekeeper, touched by the romantic tale. He murmured, “I have a wish, but I can't find anybody to make it with me… Anyway, I’ll leave you to it!”

As the gatekeeper walked away to assume his post, the fishing pole tugged and Alythia scrambled to heave. To her disappointment, she caught a bullhead fish. Nothing impressive to enter into the contest.

‘Is there someone I feel that way about?’ pondered Alythia. She mentally shuffled through the potential bachelors in her head. None had quite stood out except a pair of gold eyes that made her lose the ability to reason. 

‘But he would make a stupid wish, like _I pledge to usurp Professor Byleth's technique and his swordsmanship._ ’

She chuckled at the silly thought and recast her fishing line with a different lure. Perhaps this time, she would have better luck.


	4. Happiness

Tonight was the Garreg Mach Ball, a romantic and extravagant affair. Alythia and Claude perched on the balcony, watching Dimitri and Edelgard with their respective partners glide over glassy floors. Others followed, the men guiding their counterparts hand-in-hand toward the center of the grand floor. While most students admired the twirling couples, two snakes evaluated the chess board for opportunities to set up their next move. 

“Claude, you should request a dance with Professor Byleth,” said Alythia, motioning a hand toward her brother.  
  
“What rewards me to participate in this goofy noble dance?” said Claude, suppressing a yawn. The stuffy ball wasn’t exactly the event he looked forward to all year. An event with nobles flaunting their stiff waltzes? Couldn’t care less. 

“You would have something the others don’t,” replied straight-faced Alythia, shamelessly using Byleth like a pawn. Claude glanced at Edelgard and Dimitri and saw right through their masked smiles. Royal titles came with royal obligations. They couldn’t dance freely with whoever they pleased, so Claude will graciously do that for them.

“Please excuse me,” smirked Claude with a devilish glint in his eyes as he routed to Professor Byleth. Alythia turned smug, quietly proud of using Claude like a chess piece. She watched with amusement as Claude strutted a flustered Byleth into the center, luring the surprised looks and glares from Dimitri and Edelgard. 

“So it's you!” A man’s voice called from behind her. She turned to see a familiar raven haired noble emerge from the crowd.  
  
“Good evening, Lord Rodrigue.”  
  
“Miss Alythia from the Officers Academy. We meet again. I extend my appreciation to you and Professor Byleth for helping us defend our land,” Rodrigue beamed and took position next to her, “Thank you for taking such good care of my son. How fortunate Felix is to have met someone like you. There’s nothing as heartening as having someone around who really understands you.” 

“On the contrary, I’m fortunate to have met Felix,” Alythia explained, slightly lying through her teeth. Felix was lucky to have met _her_ , not so much the other way around. But she knew how to speak favorably to nobles. 

“He’s an odd boy. Candidly speaking, I don’t understand how you managed to connect with him,” Rodrigue said, observing his son from the balcony with arms behind his back. Felix looked at them and narrowed his eyes. He began cutting through the crowd to make his way up the stairs, “Thick-headed. Arrogant. Persistent. But he’s my son all the same. I’m glad he has you to look after him.”

Alythia smiled politely and nodded, “Professor Byleth and I will continue to look after him.”  
  
“Miss Alythia, you have my gratitude. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call on House Fraldarius,” Rodrigue bowed and took leave to greet his friends before his son could reach them. Felix rudely pushed the other students and stood in front of Alythia. 

“Speak. What pathetic words did he exchange with you?” Felix hissed, disappointed at arriving too late to confront his father. 

Alythia turned away to watch the student pairs waltz below, “Your father said you are cunning, bold and persistent. He is grateful that you train under Professor Byleth.”  
  
“You’re lying,” Felix scoffed and rolled his eyes, “... He said I was thick-headed didn’t he?” 

“He said you’re his son all the same,” Alythia stated partial truths. Felix groaned in response, seeing right through her deception.  
  
“My father probably said something shallow like, _I’m glad my son has met you_ . Or _Felix is fortunate to have you,_ ” Felix waved his hand in the air as if sprinkling white lies with a wand, “Don’t believe his words. They are untrue.”  
  
“ _If_ he said such things, I would think there is truth in those words,” Alythia tilted her face slightly and smirked at him, “You _are_ lucky to meet me.” 

“You accomplished nothing in your life and will never do so. You prove no value to me,” scoffed Felix.

“I have no need to make my accomplishments so brazen,” she replied matter of factly, “Only _thick-headed_ men, limited in thought, would prioritize such vapid and pointless merits.” 

The edge of Felix’s mouth twitched, not knowing whether to laugh or retaliate further. Though their exchange was rude and offensive, they enjoyed their banter. 

“Will you ask me to dance?” For the first time that evening, Alythia turned to face him directly. She looked up at his golden eyes and saw them waver with surprise. 

Alythia looked different tonight. 

Felix recalled the first day of lecture when Professor Byleth and Alythia walked into class wearing mercenary uniforms. They wore matching coats, pants and boots. Judging by Alythia’s oversized clothing, Byleth and Alythia shared attire in the same sizes to be frugal. The livelihood of sellswords was not glamorous. By Manuela’s insistence, both twins wore formal (and properly fitting) uniforms from then on. 

During the second week of instruction, the campus was buzzing with an immediate admiration of Byleth’s regal new look. In a double breasted suit with a cravat, it was hard to imagine Professor Byleth’s previous career. Much to Sylvain’s disappointment, Alythia opted out of the similar regal uniform and wore a humble white shirt and riding pant, carefully picked so as not to rival the spotlight Professor Byleth deserved. After all, she was only the teaching assistant. 

Tonight, she presented herself in the same attire as the other students. Adorned in a double breasted coat, skirt and leggings, Felix’s mind paused. In the ball where students wore the same uniform, why did Alythia stand out to him?

Felix stared at her face. There was something different there, too. Her eyelashes looked longer and more defined. There was a subtle coral hue to her eyelids. He vaguely recalled a memory of Mercedes and Annette chattering about putting make-up on Ingrid and their teacher. By teacher, Felix dumbly assumed the pair was going to give Professor Byleth a makeover and scoffed at that idea. 

A blush crept to his cheeks when he caught himself analyzing her appearance bottom-up. Before he could muster up the courage, a voice intercepted his thoughts. 

“Miss Alythia. I, Ferdinand von Aegir, would be honored to have your first dance,” said Ferdinand, bowing graciously. She glanced at Felix before taking the noble’s hand. Ferdinand placed his arm on her hip, whisking her away. Alythia turned back at Felix with an apologetic look, which he returned with a glare.

Sylvain walked by with a girl on his arm and whistled, “Do my eyes deceive me? Miss Alythia’s finally wearing the uniform! Goddess, she looks better than what I fantasized.”

He only laughed when Felix and the maiden gave him a scowl. 

* * *

After escaping the ball and wandering the campus lost in thought, Byleth found himself at the Goddess Tower. He stood firmly near the window’s edge, watching a silver snow gently blanket the courtyard, as if tucking the grass to slumber for winter. Nine moons have passed since their arrival at Garreg Mach.  
  
Byleth thought about the class promise and smiled to himself. He loved his students for how far they come and how much they’ve grown. Although he could not express it, he was incredibly touched by the Blue Lion’s promise to meet in five years’ time. The imprint they left on his life was profound and he was grateful to experience it. 

“I know you’re there,” He said, voice echoing in the stoney chamber. There was no need to turn around to see their face. 

“It must be hard to be the favorite teacher at the ball,” Alythia’s voice cooed. She stood next to her brother and faced the window too. 

“She said that to me, too,” said Byleth softly.

“Oh, the girl in your dreams,” said Alythia, who didn’t need more context, “Sothis is quite observant. It’s a good thing you have her.” 

Byleth nodded quietly, grateful to entrust his experience to someone who didn’t warrant an explanation. He couldn’t explain why he saw this mysterious girl or who she was, but his sister didn’t press him for answers. From the corner of his mind, he saw Sothis nodding with approval at Alythia’s compliment. She is pleased. 

“You were a popular choice as well,” stated Byleth, “You also left after one dance.”

“I can’t let you wallow alone,” replied Alythia, “Did it surprise you to see Claude extending his hand?”

“My reaction was similar to yours when Ferdinand von Aegir extended his,” smirked Byleth. 

Alythia looked at him in surprise and then scoffed, “So you sent Ferdinand to ask me?”  
It was a calculative cockblock she didn’t expect from her brother. 

“I made a comment to Claude,” said Byleth, “And well, he executed the rest.”

Alythia and Byleth shared a laugh and then a peaceful silence. Though they didn’t need to audibly discuss it, they thought about their nine moons at the monastery as they continued watching the snow. It was a moment appreciated by two people who loved each other deeply. Brother and sister who have been together since birth.

“What should our wish be?” pondered Alythia. 

Byleth stared at a lonely white cloud. Each day, the sky grew clearer and clearer. Through his dreams, he felt as though he met his beloved students in a different time, in different circumstances, in a different ending. Up until now, everything felt... familiar. But the tides were winding up. A raging storm on the horizon brings a new beginning.

“I wish for us to find happiness,” he said, wrinkling his brows. This scene gave him deja vu. He vaguely recalled three wishes from his fragmented dreams.

_I wish for Fódlan to live freely._   
_I wish for a legacy of strength and greatness._   
_I wish to discover myself and our family’s past._

Were they his past lives? A parallel dimension? A different timeline? For some reason, despite those dreams having joyous endings, he felt incredible sadness. Like there was a missing piece. 

Byleth was surprised at his own voice wavering slightly as he made his wish. A catalyst stirred deep inside him. In his heart, he felt a longing and a fulfillment as if this time, he was making the right choice. Alythia reached for his hand and held it tightly. They looked at each other and nodded, then closed their eyes to pray. 

“Goddess, please hear our wish."


	5. Tea

A long knife, coated in Jeralt’s blood, pulled from his back. His strong body collapsed to the ground like a fallen giant. For someone so big, impenetrable and powerful, Jeralt looked so small as his children held his hands and watched his life leave his body. 

For the first time in his life, Byleth cried. His tears coated their father’s face and the sound of rain drowned out the sound of his weeping. The Blue Lions stood behind their teachers and mourned with them quietly. The progress Byleth made with his emotions came to a startling halt. He reverted to his former glassy eyes and flat lined mouth. While Alythia mourned with her peers, Byleth suppressed his grief. Some days, he wanted to break chalices in his room, rip lesson plans from his books during class, sneak out at midnight and murder slithering thieves to quench his insatiable hunger for revenge.

Previously, Dimitri approached Byleth and gently coaxed him to eat a meal at the dining hall. When Dimitri took Byleth’s silence for an answer, the prince nodded and shared his grief to console him. _The pain of losing a father is unbearable_ , Dimitri said, _But your tears will dry and you have to start living again._

But Byleth couldn't imagine how life could start again from this rubble.

* * *

In Byleth's second week back in class, the words in Jeralt’s journal came to haunt him. 

“If you position yourselves around the enemy in this fashion, then…” Byleth trailed off as his father’s voice narrating the entries interrupted the lecture.

_Day 20 of Pegasus Moon. All is cloudy. I can’t believe she’s dead._ _  
__She was so happy, naming Alythia just moments ago._

_Lady Rhea said she died during Byleth’s birth. But is that the truth?_

_And still, the child she traded her life for doesn't make a sound._

_Didn't even cry at birth._

“Professor, are you alright?” Mercedes’s voice sounded so far away. 

“You don’t look well, Professor,” Byleth could hardly decipher Ashe’s voice against the ghost in his head. 

_Day 25 of the Pegasus Moon._

_It's raining. Byleth doesn't laugh or cry. Not ever._

_Lady Rhea says not to worry, but a baby that doesn't cry... isn't natural._

_I had a doctor examine the children in secret. Alythia was healthy..._ _  
__When he examined Byleth, he said the pulse is normal, but there's no heartbeat. No heartbeat!_

“Byleth.” 

One voice broke through the barrier. Byleth found himself on the ground, still dazed. The students crouched around him with worried faces. 

“Byleth,” Alythia’s sad voice repeated, “Come back to us.” 

“Professor,” Annette attempted to speak, but her voice cracked. Tears welled up in her eyes as she drew a deep breath in an attempt to hold it in. 

Ingrid spoke next, her voice sounding softer than usual, “Professor, you don’t have to push yourself.” 

“Professor, Dedue and Ashe planted all these flowers for Captain Jeralt,” Mercedes said, holding bouquets of baby’s breath. 

“We wanted to visit him together after class…” said Sylvain, offering a sad smile. 

“Ashe and I cooked Duscur cuisine as well,” Dedue said, “I hope it would make a good offering to Captain Jeralt. He seemed to be as fond of it as you did.” 

“Felix even offered to help us cook,” Ashe teased playfully in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“I don’t want Ashe’s grave to be without an offering,” Felix threatened. 

“Come, Professor,” said Dimitri, hoisting Byleth to his feet, “Don’t carry this burden alone.”

Overwhelmed by a spectrum of emotions he was unfamiliar with, for the second time in his life, Byleth cried.

* * *

Felix visited the blacksmith’s stall in the afternoon to check on his iron sword before heading to the training grounds. Today, the marketplace was busier than usual. With rumors of more danger and missing villagers, the commoners started to panic buy supplies. Whispers of a pending war and a flame emperor swept the lands. 

As Felix waited for the blacksmith to retrieve his repaired weapons, he noticed a blur of bright orange come into his peripherals. He looked towards the direction of the eastern merchant’s shop and saw Ferdinand walking with Alythia. His heart sank a bit, remembering how swiftly Ferdinand took Alythia away at the ball. Since the ball and Jeralt’s passing, they didn’t have a chance to banter. 

Unlike the others, Felix didn’t know how words could help with her grief. So he thought it best to leave her alone. After Jeralt’s death, many of his classmates felt ashamed. Ashamed that they weren’t strong enough to save him. They were training to become better soldiers, fighters and mages yet couldn’t rescue the lives of those they loved. Felix, like his peers, decided to devote more time to study and train. 

“Miss Alythia,” Ferdinand said, “I, Ferdinand von Aegir, would be so deeply honored to share the Four Seasons with you.” 

What the. Share the four seasons? Was Ferdinand von Aegir proposing? Ferdinand extended his hands and Alythia’s eyes widened. With so many commoners in the crowd, Felix couldn’t make out what Ferdinand was holding. But it was safe to assume it was a ring. He scoffed at the idea. There’s no way Alythia would accept after just one dance--

“That would make me so happy,” said Alythia, gently putting her hand on his shoulder. 

Oh. So, it was like that.  
There was something that twisted inside of Felix, but he drowned those feelings with the urge to grip his sword. 

“Sir, thank you for waiting--”  
  
“Took you damn long enough,” barked Felix, swiping his blade from the blacksmith’s hands and stomped away to his training. He paced away, absolutely fuming and ready to strike down his sparring partners at today’s tournament. 

* * *

“Miss Alythia,” Ferdinand said, “I, Ferdinand von Aegir, would be so deeply honored to share the Four Seasons with you.” 

Ferdinand extended his hands, revealing the special tea he bought from the eastern merchant. One afternoon, Ferdinand asked Alythia of her favorite tea. The Four Seasons was definitely not a common nor an accessible brew. But being Ferdinand von Aegir, he wanted to make a grand gesture to bring happiness to his treasured new friend. He wanted to show her support as she mourned her father’s passing. 

Alythia’s eyes widened. She only had Four Seasons once before, from a mysterious merchant they saved back in the family’s mercenary days. While Jeralt and Byleth could care less about leaf juice, Alythia craved the flavor for years to come. 

“That would make me so happy,” said Alythia, gently putting her hand on his shoulder. 

“Thank you for being my precious friend,” smiled Ferdinand, thankful to find a companion who shared his love for tea.


	6. Spar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth presses his student to confess his troubles and regrets it.

Steel blades clashed against each other; pressure exerting like waterfalls. In one swift and brute motion, Felix’s opponent fell. The knight groaned and held his stomach as he lay sprawled on the ground. From the side, Byleth meticulously observed the battle. His gaze never left the standing swordsman, taking note of Felix's unbalanced stances in all the matches. 

“Advanced Sword Tournament Winner -- Felix Hugo Fraldarius,” announced the referee, his hand waving like a flag. Felix scoffed and covered his sword, unimpressed by today’s matches. Was it fair to call it a tournament when it presented no worthy contenders? The defeated students sheepishly reunited with their trainers and exited the training grounds, cutting their losses. As the crowd dispersed, one tall figure emerged. 

“Fraldarius,” said Byleth, “Something’s off with you today.”

“Seriously? But I won the tournament, Professor,” retorted Felix, shaking his head. 

Without skipping a beat, Byleth stepped into the ring and began unsheathing his iron sword. Felix quickly swung his blade out from its case and charged straight towards his professor. Byleth studied his student's maneuver, recognizing the same reckless wild movements he saw in the tournament.

‘Finally, a worthy opponent--’ Felix’s thoughts were interrupted as he watched Byleth return the iron sword to his belt after it was exposed halfway. Byleth swung his arm, elbow jabbing into Felix’s back and knocked him down. As Felix tumbled face-first into the dirt, he remembered this happened before when he first challenged Professor to a spar. 

Felix was angry at Byleth, who didn’t even consider him threatening enough to fully unsheathe a sword. 

“Do you think me a child?” Felix barked, his uniform and face scuffed. 

“Yes,” scoffed Byleth, looking down at his student. He stared at Felix with his arms crossed, “You aren't concentrating. Your weak stance leaves you vulnerable. Why do you charge at me impulsively? Surely, I taught you better than that since our first spar.”

The corner of Felix’s mouth twitched. To be beat down by the Ashen Demon was embarrassing enough, but now Professor Byleth _wants to talk about his feelings_? Annoyed and feeling cornered, Felix chose rage over therapy. Propelled by his short temper, he jumped to his feet and charged at Byleth once more. 

Byleth moved to the side and stretched his arm out, catching Felix before he could land a hit. One hand pushed down on Felix’s head and the other twisted his student’s arm.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Byleth said, his voice hinted a genuine concern as he restrained him. Felix squirmed angrily in his teacher’s hands, trying to wring himself free.  
  
“You know, if your gold-digging sister wanted to come to Garreg Mach only to scheme and marry into a noble family, she didn’t have to pretend to care about everyone,” Felix hissed, his stomach churned at the memory of Alythia and Ferdinand earlier in the afternoon. As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt an instant regret. Did he seriously just confide in his teacher? To Alythia's brother? 

Byleth stared at the back of Felix’s head, confused. Although he wanted to help all students with their problems, he didn’t expect for Felix’s situation to be complicated. In all honesty, Byleth thought Felix was in a bad mood because Sylvain annoyed him again. The last thing he wanted was to advise people on their feelings, especially since Byleth was still learning to understand his. 

“Are you going to let me go or not?” barked Felix, his head trying to twist back to glare at his professor. 

Byleth snapped back to reality and muttered under his breath, regretting asking Felix about what was bothering him. As Byleth’s grip loosened, Felix jerked his arms away, his back to his teacher. They stood in awkward silence. Unsure of how to navigate through this uncomfortable conversation, Byleth’s face furrowed at the responsibility of having to console his student. 

_It’s more personal and intimate if you address them by their first name,_ Alythia’s voice reminded Byleth. 

“Felix,” Byleth picked his approach carefully. 

Felix flinched in reaction. It was the first time the professor called him so informally. Like a child being lectured, he dreaded what Professor Byleth was going to say next. 

“You asked me before why I was driven to become so strong,” said Byleth, knowing that Felix only responded positively when their conversation was about combat. Felix’s interest piqued and turned around to face his teacher. 

“I want to protect the people I love,” Byleth put his arms behind his back and looked up. For some reason, sunsets in Garreg Mach were particularly beautiful. Today, the sky had orange and pink hues. 

Byleth thought about how he held his father as the life dimmed from his eyes. He thought about his dreams where he chose a different path and lost more loved ones. In the ending of those dreams, the confident blue eyes of the prince he treasured had perished. 

“That's not what I would have expected from you,” said Felix. 

“That is the source of my hunger. That is also the source of Alythia’s hunger,” said Byleth, “We only want to protect the people we love.”  
  
Felix bit his lip sheepishly, ashamed at jumping to conclusions about Alythia’s character. Though he felt betrayed by her interactions with Ferdinand, who’s to say her motivation at Garreg Mach was to marry into nobility? He knew Alythia was genuine, from the way she helped him improve his fighting techniques and understanding Professor Byleth’s lessons. 

Whatever husband she chose shouldn’t be his concern. But why did he feel foolish when she accepted Ferdinand's proposal? Did he feel like she led him on? 

“I see. So that is the source of your hunger, and Alythia’s” shrugged Felix, “You have your students and Alythia has Ferdinand. I suppose I must find my own.”

Byleth’s face wrinkled in confusion again, “Alythia has Ferdinand?”  
  
“Yeah,” said Felix in an unsympathetic tone, “I saw him propose at the market today. He asked her to share the four seasons with him.”  
  
As Felix turned his back to pack away his equipment for the night, Byleth pieced together the puzzles of Felix’s tantrum. A lightbulb went off in Byleth’s head, and he could hear Sothis sighing. _Goodness, what a thick-headed boy, Sothis grumbled._

“Yes, Ferdinand and Alythia are tea enthusiasts. It’s no surprise to me that they would be happy to share the four seasons tea,” said Byleth, rolling his eyes. Goddess, being a teacher was so draining. 

Felix froze and stopped packing his belongings. The gears clicked slowly in his head. He could feel the heat rising to his face and Byleth’s judgmental smirk on his back. 

“Let’s continue to train, Felix,” said Byleth, knowing Felix would die from embarrassment if he kept pressing the issue, “Perhaps you will find the source of your hunger as you swing your sword.”

Felix cleared his throat and quickly got up to regain his composure. A wave of relief washed over him, secretly thanking Byleth for clearing his misunderstanding. Not wanting to dwell on his rash and impulsive feelings about Alythia, Felix assumed a defensive stance as he faced the professor. Byleth smiled, his face housing no contempt nor judgment. This time, he pulled the sword fully out of its sheath for a proper spar.


	7. Turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth, now realizing the power of the progenitor god that lies within him, reawakens.

“You fool!” Sothis’s voice reverberated in Byleth’s head. In the darkness, his blurred vision slowly focused on the green haired child, “Are you just a boulder that rolls down whatever hill it's on? No, even a boulder has more sense!"

Sothis spat at him accusingly as she slammed her fists onto her arm rests. This moronic boy-- How dare he run straight into danger without a second thought. Even when Jeralt and Alythia looked over him, it was a miracle Byleth managed to live this long. For someone who had trouble expressing emotions, Byleth had no difficulty being impulsive, selfish and hasty. 

Byleth looked at Sothis with a glazed over face, as if bored and unaffected by his own stupidity. Sothis looked around helplessly at the darkness. How terrifying this void was. She could continue to channel her frustration at him for roping them into this predicament, but there was no satisfaction or retribution in arguing with a wall.

“I’m sorry,” said Byleth. Though his face held no hint of remorse, his words rang genuine. While the apology did little to soothe her nerves, she quietly accepted his atonement nonetheless. 

She settled back in her stoney throne and sighed defeatedly, “There’s no other choice.”  
  
“What choice?” Byleth asked. 

“You were born a child who never cried nor laughed. I think I am the one to blame,” explained Sothis, “Perhaps I was asleep, but I feel I was a part of you. I do not know how Rhea managed it, but she allowed me to exist inside you.”

Byleth stood in silence, not completely taken by surprise. Somehow, he knew he harbored these hidden answers. Somehow, he knew it to be true. Sothis rested her chin in the palm of her hand and continued to observe Byleth from above. 

“There is but one thing left to do to save us from this darkness of eternity. I must now use the power of a god."

Byleth balled his hands into fists, knowing what comes next. He closed his eyes, remembering the guilt that burdened him when Jeralt died. Why did one more person have to sacrifice themselves for his mistake?  
  
“Thank you, Byleth,” said Sothis with a sad smile, descending the stone steps, “I'm glad that it was you to whom my fate was bound.”

“Both sides are revealed to you and you alone,” Sothis continued. A stream of light circled steadily around them as a flurry of fragmented memories overwhelmed him. Emotions from his past lives cycled through his mind; grief for a dead prince, anguish for his lost soul and self-hatred at Byleth’s failure to save him. But as he faced the goddess, he felt the weight of his penitence, vengeance and pity lift from his heart. 

“Thank you, Sothis,” whispered Byleth, accepting the progenitor god as a part of him. Sothis nodded confidently and extended her hand to link with his. 

* * *

Red sparks ignited out of thin air. Gradually, then all at once, an inferno grew from a suspending slit. Byleth emerged from the red light, as if reborn into the world. His blade, the Sword of the Creator, glowed with an intense fire nobody had seen before. The Blue Lions stood in awe at Professor Byleth, seeming remarkably unscathed, after Solon sealed him into darkness. 

Nearby, Alythia tightened her fists. She wanted to feel relief that her brother escaped death, but when the red light faded, her heart dropped at the sight of Byleth’s hair. She feared what happened to Byleth in the void he was banished to.  
  
Byleth turned to face his students, who cried and cheered and praised his return. 

“Lend me your strength,” Byleth raised his fist. In response, the Blue Lions rallied together and shouted, “Yes, Professor!” 

His eyes glanced at Alythia, who shook her head but gave him a knowing smile nonetheless. Byleth shrugged in return. Like Sothis, he expected a lecture from her for running into danger without a plan. 

Byleth looked at Dimitri and nodded at him before advancing towards the stairs to confront Solon. Without needing further confirmation, Dimitri flitted behind his professor to assist. While the two advanced to challenge Solon, Alythia assumed command to lead and subdue the reinforcements on the ground and sides. 

“Ashe and Annette, cover for Dimitri and take out those mages.”

"Mercedes, assume a central position at the bottom of the stairs. Keep an eye out for everyone's conditions."

"Ingrid and I will lure the Demonic Beast in the east. Sylvain and Felix, advance west to stop the other monster. Dedue, follow up with a heavy hit after its defenses are lowered."

As the students dispersed, Alythia glanced at the stairs and saw the top was surrounded by two soldiers. Thanks to her direction, Ashe and Annette’s ranged attacks disabled the mages long enough for Byleth and Dimitri to slip past without trouble. Byleth knew to put trust in Alythia, who skillfully and quickly delegated an attack plan to cover their bases.  
  
Dimitri lunged forward ahead of Byleth, steadying his lance and leveraging speed to land a critical hit against a brigand guarding Solon’s side. The brigand stumbled back but regained his balance, and then raised his axe at Dimitri. 

Byleth never faltered in his advance towards Solon. As he swung his arm, he only saw a glowing red streak from the sword and Solon’s terrified expression. With one powerful blow, Solon flew violently to the ground, his head hitting the stone platform from when he haughtily looked down at Byleth from. The old man whimpered as his eyes focused on the burning aura of the Sword of the Creator. Byleth gripped the hilt, readying another strike. Solon sneered, “I am terrified of you... But this is not the end.”

Solon vanished into a dark smoke the same way he appeared. His mysterious militia faded into the darkness of the forest, much to the relief of Byleth’s weary allies.

Byleth lowered his sword, suddenly feeling its hefty weight after his adrenaline leveled off. He breathed heavily as he felt the cold night air for the first time. Unfamiliar pale green strands of hair obstructed his vision as he tilted his head. All at once, he remembered his pact with Sothis. Two sides revealed. A fusion. Her sacrifice. 

Before Byleth could make sense of his newfound power, he felt crushed by a heavy fatigue and fainted. 

“Professor! What's wrong? Are you..” Dimitri scrambled to his teacher’s side, absolutely distraught. He paused and let out a relieved sigh as he realized Byleth was asleep. He looked at his teacher’s resting face; Byleth’s mouth slightly ajar with his light green hair covering his eyes.

  
Dimitri kneeled next to him, tenderly moving Byleth’s hair. He couldn’t help but to feel sadness, thinking about the hardship Byleth harbored to himself. What changed the professor when Solon sealed him? 

_‘Professor, my strength is yours alone,’_ Dimitri thought.

“I have no choice but to carry you back,” he declared boldly and scooped Byleth into his arms. Dimitri looked at his Professor’s sleeping face and pursed his lips. The prince forced himself to face forward, knowing he would fluster if he caught another glimpse of Byleth’s face.

_‘No matter the wreckage and no matter the tide, I will stand with you.’_


	8. Remnant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth goes missing and Alythia struggles to accept his death.

Small hands, blackened by ash and dirt rummaged through an indiscernible rubble. A frenzied girl hysterically gripped the ground in desperation. Now without family, house, nor kin, she could not accept she was orphaned. She continued to crouch next to the riverbank, unearthing debris bare handed to search for a body.

“Alythia,” A voice called from beside her.  
  
“Don’t worry, Byleth,” Alythia laughed nervously, ignoring the voice. She refused to consider the grim reality, “I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

Felix clenched his fists and exhaled slowly, as if to summon courage, “Alythia, the professor is gone.”

“He’s here, don’t worry,” Alythia shook her head, reaching for another piece of driftwood, “Don’t worry, I’ll find him again.” 

He grabbed Alythia’s hand and carefully took the splintered lumber from her arms. He dared not look at her face, knowing he could not bear to see her shattered state. 

“It’s been days,” Felix said in a gentle tone they both weren’t familiar with. He continued to hold her hand but averted his gaze. 

“Felix, don’t worry,” She pleaded desperately, reeling back her hand to resume her excavation, “I’ll find him.”

Now impatient and frustrated by her persistence, Felix grabbed her shoulders. 

“You need to **stop** \--” Felix raised his voice, but was cut short when he saw her face. He couldn’t help but to take pity. She was broken in so many more ways than he thought. While other students fled back to their families, Alythia spent restless days and sleepless nights turning every stone to find hers. Her fingernails lined with mud and her eyes weighed down by grief were testimony to her futile efforts. 

“He was all I had left of home,” she whispered, tears welling, “and now I don’t have one.”

 _I’ll be your home, Alythia._ Felix thought. 

Disturbed by the insidious thought, Felix suddenly released her shoulders. Alythia stumbled to find her footing, surprised by his reaction. He stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact again. Knowing that his father owed Alythia a favor and the other Blue Lions had no resources to house her… “I’ll be taking leave for home this afternoon,” He announced gruffly, shifting his gaze to Garreg Mach’s destroyed entrance. “If you don’t have your things packed, I’ll force you on a horse with whatever you have on your person.”

Felix left her alone, knowing he didn’t have the emotional capacity to offer any more condolences. He revisited his thought, but didn’t dare commit it out loud. 

_I’ll be your home, Alythia._

* * *

At Jeralt and Sitri’s graves, Alythia harvested the few remaining flowers from the greenhouse. She hesitated before shakily placing a third bouquet. This was the first step she took in acknowledging Byleth’s death. Numbed by the sudden loss of her father and brother, she silently bid them farewell. 

When she turned, she was surprised to see Claude standing behind her. He looked concerned for his friend as he stood there, arms crossed. 

“I’m sorry,” Claude shook his head. He too, had spent days searching on his wyvern. She gave him a weary smile, a part of her knew that nobody would find anything substantial. 

“Thank you for trying. Be safe on your journey home.”

When she tried to walk past, Claude grabbed her hand and reeled her back. Alythia gave him a puzzled look, wondering why he would stop her. As he withdrew his hands, her attention averted to their palms and to find Byleth’s golden brooch. 

“I’m sorry,” Claude repeated, his breath shaky. He put his hand on Alythia’s shoulder as she stood frozen. She silently caressed the edges of the pin, remembering a day at the market from years ago. With the other hand, she touched the matching badge that adorned her chest as a necklace. 

After their first mission as mercenaries, the twins bought matching badges to commemorate their success. At the merchant’s shop, Alythia was overwhelmed by the trays of choices. Silver? Bronze? Tin? Should they pick a pin with an animal? When Alythia couldn’t decide, Byleth had picked for both of them the badge with the star, surrounded by an ornate decoration of a flame. Quietly, Byleth attached a red tassel to Alythia’s badge. She recognized the accessory as the fishing lures Jeralt fashioned from yarn. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a grey tassel and affixed it to Byleth’s pin.

Alythia beamed at her brother while he stared back, expressionless. While the other patrons could only see Byleth’s vacant look, she saw a spark in his eyes that revealed joy, pride and love. 

“Thank you,” Alythia smiled through tears, clutching Byleth’s brooch. She felt happiness, knowing that she had a piece of her brother. But misery overtook her mind as she realized this was all that was left. 

_I will always carry you_ _  
_ _inside_ _  
_ _outside_

 _At my fingertips_ _  
_ _and in my thoughts_

 _and in centers_ __  
_of who I am_  
_and of what remains_


	9. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Alythia moved into the Fraldarius estate, Felix debates how to approach her as she struggles with grief.

Felix didn’t know how to approach Alythia, despite living on the other side of the manor. Rodrigue was surprised but understanding of the situation. His father offered to let her live on the premises for however long necessary, though that idea infuriated Felix. What, they were going to let her live there rent-free until she marries into a rich family? Ridiculous.

Months had passed since they left whatever remained of Garreg Mach. Everyone seemed to be adjusting to the new normal-- accepting the inevitable war and preparing for the worst. It seemed each day brought a new tragedy. Not too long ago, they lost Dimitri and Dedue.

Alythia locked herself in the room with the doors shut, only creaking open for the maid to clean the space and retrieve meals. Too many times would Felix stand in the hallway, debating with himself if he should start a conversation. 

_‘A loss like that rips you from the core,’_ He wanted to say. 

Felix could sympathize with Alythia-- losing a brother. He was all too familiar with the pain, despite trying his best to drown it deep into a dark abyss. 

_‘It makes you forget who you are. It strips you of feeling human. It renders you to operate at the most basic level.’_ In his imaginary conversation, he continued to console her. 

At the beginning, he would pace back and forth indecisively from the hallway. Each passing day, Felix found himself inching closer and closer to her quarters. Until one afternoon after his training, he decided he would be brave enough to knock. 

“Alythia?” said Felix, clearing his throat. It was the first attempt to contact her in months. A whole season passed and it was nearly autumn now. A part of him was relieved to be greeted with silence. It had been so long since they interacted, he wouldn’t know how to respond to her. 

Felix laid his sword against the wall and crouched. He relaxed his back against the door, hearing soft rustling from the other side. He couldn’t help but to smirk knowing how he caught her off-guard. He sat there, rehearsing his mental conversations in detail from the past moons before deciding to speak. 

“When I lost my brother, it felt like everything was ripped away from me,” Felix began. He caught a glimpse of a shadow under the cracks. Strangely, it brought him comfort, “I could only function at the most basic level.”

“My father will tell you that Glenn died in glorious service to the king,” he sighed, “That pisses me off. It’s like he mourned him for his service as a knight… not as his son.”

He pushed the back of his head against the wood and closed his eyes. 

“It’s undeniable that Glenn was a great knight. But his death and memory stalks me like shadow. Everyone praises his death. Chivalry begets the worship and glorification of death. Is his death justified because he chose to protect someone?”

“I’m not here to tell you that Jeralt nor Byleth.. Hell, not even the Boar had respectful deaths because the Goddess willed their destinies... Because she didn’t. Their deaths were unjustified. As much as I hide it, I'm not immune to emotion, you know. Far from it. I don’t go a day without questioning why Glenn had to die. I'll bear this pain until the day I die, but I refuse to wallow in it. I have more important things to do than blubber for my whole life. And you do too.”

Felix got up and retrieved his sword, readying himself to return to the training grounds for another session. Although the conversation turned out more of a confession, it was a break that he needed, honestly. As long as she listened, he couldn’t care less for a response. 

Before he turned his heel to exit the hall, he was surprised to hear Alythia’s voice. 

“Thank you.”

He took a moment to savor her voice, which he had gone so long without. It was still as he remembered-- like a sweet music box. He contemplated how to reply. Maybe she needed to hear more from him. Maybe she needed the company.  
  
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” said Felix quietly, and walked away. 

Maybe he needed the company too. 

* * *

“So you’re telling me you have this beautiful maiden that lives next door-- nay, _down the hall_ … And you just sit outside and talk to her? You haven’t seen her in months? Are you sure it’s not Miss Alythia but _Bernadetta_ in the room? Have you even asked her to come out?” Sylvain sat in the Fraldarius dining room moving his hands on the table as if he were figuring out the enemy’s positioning.  
  
“I don’t get you, man. You are missing a grand opportunity.”  
  
“She’s too wrapped in her grief to come out,” retorted Felix, “Trust me, if I wanted her to leave, it would happen.”

Sylvain stared at Felix with a mischievous grin as he watched him regret his words.  
  
“You stupid-- I didn’t mean that I wanted her to stay in my estate. I meant that it wouldn’t be hard for me if I wanted her to come out of the room that badly,“ said Felix, trying to cover his tracks.  
  
“Anyway, why _did_ you call me here?” asked Sylvain, folding his arms behind his head. He took a moment to eye the older maid in the other room. “I remember whenever there was something wrong—like you lost to your brother or you fought with Dimitri—you'd come crying to me.”

“I have a favor,” said Felix, crossing his arms across his chest. He closed his eyes to avoid indulging Sylvain. He knew the incorrigible fool was taking delight in this. Felix? Asking him a favor? He might as well be on the ground begging like a dog. 

Sylvain propped his legs onto the table, knowing it would peeve Felix even more.  
  
“You have piqued my interest,” smirked Sylvain. 

* * *

Alythia sat by her window watching snowfall blanket the rooftops. Her mind echoed with memories of watching snow with her brother at the Goddess Tower. She recalled their naive wish for happiness. But alas, life is full of disappointments. Before she could continue to imagine an alternate happier timeline, two knocks sounded on her door. 

  
“You may enter,” Alythia said without looking away from the snow. 

The maid creaked open the door halfway and stepped in quietly, “Miss Alythia, we wait for you downstairs.”  
  
Puzzled but uninterested in exiting her room, Alythia shook her head and said, “I wish to not be disturbed further.” 

Before the maid could reply and retreat, the door swung open forcefully. Alythia’s eyes darted to the entrance, startled by the sound of cracking wood and broken hinges. Felix stood with one hand on the door, which was smashed against the wall. 

Alythia stood up angrily and pointed at Felix, “You broke my door--”  
  


“No, I broke _my_ door,” retorted Felix and pointed back an accusing finger, “This is _my_ estate.”

His head snapped to the maid, who didn’t flinch once at his tantrum. Years of serving the Fraldarius family made her immune to Felix’s outbursts. He gestured to the door, “Get out and get it fixed,” and the maid quickly made her exit. 

“Why--”

“Shut up,” Felix said under his breath. He almost choked at his own words as he took in the full sight of Alythia for the first time since they left the monastery. Her short hair had grown past her shoulders, soft and wispy to frame her fragile jaw. He had only seen her in uniforms, but here she was, adorned in a white gown that noblewomen wore. Felix felt embarrassed, recalling how casually he would address her in their hallway chats. How foolish to assume she was the same as always. Now seeing her in a different light, he realized they were growing older, maturing. Alythia was a lady now. 

Alythia waited for an explanation as Felix crossed his arms and stared at the floor. Then, distant piano notes filled in the silence. The tune sounded familiar, like from a hazy dream. Why was there music coming from downstairs? Alythia furrowed her brows with even more confusion, glancing between the hallway and Felix, who seemed more and more restless.

“Just shut up,” repeated Felix, aggressively pulling her out of the room by the hand. 

“I didn’t say anything--”  
  
“If you don’t shut up, I won’t fix your door,”

“So now it’s my door?”  
  
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

  
As the two descended the winding staircase, Alythia was surprised to see Sylvain at the piano. He sat at the bench with eyes closed, fingers expertly gliding atop the keys. Given his promiscuous character, Alythia often forgot he was a nobleman who deeply appreciated the arts. From the way he played gracefully, anyone could tell he spent his childhood excelling and mastering the piano.

As Alythia was able to hear the notes clearer, it dawned upon her that Sylvain was playing the song from the night of the ball. She looked at Felix with an open mouth but his golden gaze pierced through her, reminding her to shut up. As someone who valued her privacy and needed a functioning door, she closed her mouth and decided it best not to press him. 

When they reached the center floor, Felix let go of Alythia’s hand and stepped back. To her disbelief, he bowed slightly then offered his hand.  
  
“Lady Alythia. May I have this first dance?” asked Felix. He made sure to address her properly. They were no longer teacher and student, but man and woman. 

Alythia stared at his open palm as she processed what was happening. She looked back at his determined face and smiled. 

“You’re one year late,” said Alythia, accepting his hand. Felix scoffed at her, trying his best to hide a smirk as he finally took her into his arms. 

Alythia blushed as his arm gently wrapped around her waist, looking to Sylvain for confirmation. Is this a dream? Is this really Felix? While she was caught up in her thoughts, Felix tilted her chin. It felt as if he hoisted her from a flood.  
  
“Don’t hide from me anymore,” he whispered, moving a stray hair from her face. 

“Now that you broke my door, I can’t,” she whispered back playfully. 

They chuckled and slowly swayed to the piano notes, their eyes never straying from each other’s. And for a moment in time, Alythia forgot how to mourn.


	10. 1181

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix is tired of Alythia living at the Fraldarius estate rent-free until he finds out she's more useful than he assumed.  
> And, a new tradition is born.

**Year 1**

“Besides being a scheming snake, are you good for anything?” Felix bluntly asked Alythia. On a cold morning of the Ethereal Moon, they took a walk outside the Fraldarius estate. It was nearing the end of another year in Fódlan, Year 1181. Felix was preparing for an early training session with her before heading out to support a rebellion against the Empire. Though her swordsmanship wasn’t superior to Byleth, he had to make do. 

“You realize that I practically run the estate… do you?” Alythia answered nonchalantly. She grew used to Felix’s chastising and shrugged it off. 

He sneered and rolled his eyes. Though he took _a small liking_ to Alythia, that didn’t excuse her for being useless. She did, after all, live in the manor without a title. “Sparring with me does not help pay for running the estate.”

  
“It’s true, I don’t earn coin from sparring you,” said Alythia with a smirk, “However, I do earn my keep by helping Lord Rodrigue and the council defend the few remaining noble houses of Faerghus.” 

Felix stopped dead in his tracks while Alythia carried on the path without him. He had trouble wrapping his head around the idea. 

“You… help?”

After Dimitri was falsely accused of murdering Grand Duke Rufus, he was executed by Cornelia. Faerghus, in turn, became a vassal state of the Empire. The last loyal houses of Faerghus banded together to create a union to defend their territories under the leadership of Lord Rodrigue. Felix, among others, were dispatched in strategic regions to help rebellions opposing the Empire. 

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a smug look, then quietly motioned for him to keep up. He didn’t like being called over like a pet… but he wanted to know what she meant. So he stubbornly dawdled next to her. 

“Have you noticed the blight of the fields in the Gautier territory? The food shortages? How do you think our union continues to afford battalions despite our limited access?” One question after the other shot at Felix like a rain of arrows-- none to which he had answers to.  
  
Felix stared at her blankly, mouth slightly open. He was fully prepared to berate her for being useless but the last thing he expected was an ambush. 

“Do you even know how much it costs to run the estate?” Alythia looked at him doubtfully. She graded all the students’ exams well enough to know arithmetic wasn’t Felix’s strong suit. 

“How do you--”  
  
“When my family were mercenaries, did you think Byleth took inventory of the food and supplies? Budgeted our overall income? Helped negotiate terms and contracts with the hired arms?” 

Felix closed his mouth to give this possibility a considerable thought. Although Byleth was the Professor, it was Alythia working tirelessly behind the scenes preparing lesson plans down to the last detail, going over homework and reviewing scores one-on-one with students. Byleth trained his students in the art of battle and weapon classes, how to recognize an opponent’s weakness and upheld high expectations for the class to reach. They were a team that completed each other. 

“You... did all that?”

“Jeralt taught us,” said Alythia in a matter-of-fact way, “But I was better at it.” 

“... There is a food shortage?”  
  
“There _was_ a food shortage,” she corrected him.  
  
“How did you even know how to--”  
  
“I learned a lot from the other students. Ferdinand, for example, goes into detail about his agricultural surveys about farmland and harvests. Petra explained how the people of Brigid prepare meats to last longer in the winter.” 

The familiar feeling of guilt stung him. While he was so focused on training his sword and whatever opponent was in front of him, he forgot all other responsibility. Here was Alythia, working tirelessly behind the scenes again. As always. 

Felix narrowed his eyes at her and couldn’t stand how pleased she looked; collecting information like a spy and using it to leverage her status. He scoffed, but couldn’t help but to feel a little bit impressed. And lucky. 

His expression softened when he decided to point something out, “Don’t hold all your students with such high regard. Ferdinand and Petra are our enemies now.”  
  
There was no need to peer at her face to know she was frightened by that realization. Alythia’s head was down, but Felix firmly looked on ahead. Fódlan was now consumed by the tempest of war and turmoil. The Empire, the Kingdom, the Alliance. Someday, they might have to cross swords with their old classmates.

Felix knew Alythia would hesitate committing a necessary evil. But if that were to happen, he swore to himself to be there and defend her. He changed the topic to lighten the mood. There was no point in sparring with someone whose thoughts wandered elsewhere.  
  
“Sylvain actually invited himself to come by again this year,” Felix grumbled, “For some reason, Ingrid thought that non-existent invitation extended to her as well.”  
  
“Why are they coming here?” Alythia asked, confused. Though the three did meet up to prepare for battles, it wasn’t common for them to visit the Fraldarius estate. 

“Sylvain wants to play the piano for us,” Felix shifted uncomfortably away from her. Gods, he’d rather be sparring with her than have this painful conversation, “Ingrid wants to accompany and play the flute.”

“Why would they--” Alythia’s eyelids fluttered rapidly when she finally comprehended why, “Oh.”  
  
Felix’s face reddened, heated by embarrassment and annoyance, “I _told_ them not to but they insisted we should make it a tradition. There’s no point in doing another stupid dance. I’ll tell the housekeepers to turn them away when they arrive.”

The silence between them was deafening. 

“I wouldn’t mind another dance with you,” she said, "I think a tradition would be... really nice." 

Alythia looked up at him eagerly. The way her blue eyes wavered with excitement weakened his knees. Usually, she’s in her old mercenary clothes, refusing to wear the dresses the maids pick out for her (despite their insistence). Byleth’s brooch was always clipped onto her hip. It was her way of keeping him close. 

_She hasn’t worn a dress since last year_ . _She’ll certainly wear one again to dance with you._

Curse these insidious thoughts.

“Oh,” was all Felix could muster. Alythia smiled at him, knowing that if he didn’t reject a proposal with a threat, it was a ‘yes.’

“Come, Fraldarius,” She mimicked Byleth’s low stern voice, even straightening her back to copy his posture, “Forgo your troubles and spar with me. Perhaps you will find the source of your hunger as you swing your sword.”

Alythia unsheathed her sword with a single swing, in the same habit her brother did, and lunged towards Felix.


	11. 1182

**Year 2**

Felix hated sparring with Alythia. _Hated_ it. Against Byleth was a duel of strength. But against his sister was a competition of wits. Everything was a game of chess to her, and he knew she saw him as a pawn. He didn't want to think about the environment, or leveraging their surroundings, or the footwork. He craved a straight-forward match of brute strength. 

At a jut sword, Alythia would parry quickly, reflexively. To compensate for lack of strength, she was evasive in nature. It was always a game of cat and mouse. He chased, and she leapt backwards. At first, he’d blindly follow like magnets, pulled together. One time (and the only time), she lured him into slipping in mud. 

How had these twins always found a way to embarrass him? 

Yet when their blades finally intersected, it felt like a gravitational pull. It was always in the same fashion. He’d cut downwards and she counteracted with an upward swing. When their faces were close enough, he could see the fierce struggle in her eyes to match the might. As the months went by, he noticed it was getting more difficult for her to meet his strength. He was growing older and stronger. 

But by far, the most frustrating part was when she yielded. And she _always_ yielded. He’d sneer, return the sword to its hilt and resume his training while she rushed off to ready for a council meeting. 

Until one day, he didn’t relent and kept pressing his blade. It was the morning of the day he was supposed to leave for a month-long mission.

“I yield.” 

A slight pain stirred in her expression. 

“Didn’t you hear me? Felix, I yield.” She repeated, her words sounded more strained this time. 

Felix heard her but he didn’t listen. Somewhere in his subconscious, he knew that her yield was a signal to the end of their meeting. That innate part of him knew this was the only chance they could get physically close. 

Leveraging her angle, Alythia swung clockwise and disarmed them both; their swords hitting the cobblestone yards away. Felix, mind not entirely in the present, was just now realizing the missing blade from his hands. Then he realized he was falling on top of her. 

Like from one of Sylvain’s scandalous stories, they found themselves in an uncompromising position. He breathed shakily, as he felt her underneath him, not squirming, not rejecting, but… accepting the situation. She noticed the same of him too; he didn’t scramble to get off her or lose composure. 

He felt that gravitational pull again. And he swears she could, too. He swears she leaned her face closer as he did. They close their eyes, finally accepting this attraction... Until they feel a hot pain on their foreheads instead of soft lips.

Alythia and Felix reel back from each other instantly, holding their heads. When she moved her hand and revealed a red forehead, he could feel the pit of his stomach drop. 

That’s going to leave an obvious bruise on _both of them_. 

“We collided while training,” Alythia answered dismissively to the inquisitive maids. Even to Rodrigue. 

“Sparring accident,” Felix retorted defensively to Ingrid and Sylvain. _Especially_ to Rodrigue. 

They’d all respond with an unconvinced nod and a raised brow. Felix and Alythia could feel the doubt from everyone around them, but stuck to their excuses. Though Alythia and Felix didn’t say it out loud, both were thankful for Felix’s month-long mission to defend Galatea territory against the Gloucesters, allied with the Empire.

When Felix departed on horseback with Ingrid and Sylvain that afternoon, Alythia awkwardly waved as she stood next to Rodrigue. The entire time, they refused to look at each other directly. 

They’ll have a chance to talk about it later, they think. 

* * *

On the day he was supposed to arrive, he didn’t turn up. Rodrigue sent a bird to House Galatea, but to no avail. No response. No word of a win, no word of a loss. What happened? 

Alythia formed a habit out of staring out the window again. Doubt nipped at her faith every day. She'd clutch the pendant at her hip and smooth her fingers over the ridges. She wasn't sure if she could handle another loss.

She began cursing the Faerghus snow for playing tricks on her mind. Some days, for a fraction of a second, Alythia lets out a breath of relief. She makes this mistake too often when Rodrigue arrives at the gate. Their eyes, nose and hair color are the same. Alythia wouldn't dare confess it to him, but Felix is the spitting image of his father. Rodrigue quietly acknowledges Alythia’s reaction when he enters a room without announcement, but minds his business and carries on as usual. 

But finally, weeks after his expected homecoming, she sees someone on horseback approach from her window. It’s him. Unmistakably him. Alythia runs out. The thought of bolting out the door barely surfaced to mind as she felt her bare feet brushing against cold dirt. She hears the voices of everyone she hurries past dwindling behind her.

The tired, slumped figure perks up as she approaches. A familiar blue cape flaps with the cold, unforgiving Farghus wind. And before she knows it, she’s in his arms again. 

‘Did he grow taller?’ She wonders as his body envelopes her in a warm embrace. Felix no longer bore resemblance to the lithe figure from those days at the monastery. There’s more muscle now. More roughness of a grown man. 

“Why did you expect the worst?” He pulled away and smirked, gently cupping her face in his gloved hands.  
  
“It saves time,” she replied, blinking away tears. 

Felix caresses them away with his thumb and pulls her closer. This time, they kiss without hitting heads. He feels a wave of relief. A calm inside him. It feels like a drink of water in the middle of the night. A balance that is finally set right.

And she tastes so sweet.

“Are you blushing?”  
  
“Shut up. No. I’m sunburnt.”

Alythia laughs as they walk back to the Fraldarius manor and Felix, still red-faced, improvises an explanation about the difference of sun exposure in Galatea territory. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally!!!!! the pining ends!!!! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻


	12. 1183

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet chapter.  
> Thank you so much for reading! I recently had to take care of a family member who contracted COVID. Luckily, the situation at home has improved. Please stay safe everyone!

**Year 3**

Sylvain and Ingrid thought it endearing, but Felix found it awkward Alythia shares the same birthday. 

The 20th of Pegasus Moon tends to be business as usual. Previous years proved too busy. With Felix on missions and Alythia tending problems at home, they usually exchanged nothing more than a courtesy bouquet sent by proxy.

Conflicts at the border calmed down as the Empire withdrew battalions, without doubt, to regroup and strategize. At home, there were no signs of famine, blight or supply shortage. 

For once, amidst the storm of war, it nearly seemed peaceful.

Felix sat in the dining room alone. His leg shook, his knee occasionally bumping against the underside of the table. He tried to look for a distraction out the window-- anything at all. But Faerghus was not a place of gardens and golden meadows. The harsh gray of snow, dotted with jagged wooden posts, stretched for miles.

The nostalgic sleet held memories he tried to ignore. Two brothers playing in the cold. Two raven haired boys pelting each other with snowballs. Then, one lonely son. Felix felt a weight dragging his heart towards the floor.

It’s insidious, how Glenn’s death stalks him like shadows. Grief, left unattended, always returns in the quietest of moments. 

“Felix.”  
  
It’s strange how her voice pulls him from the depth so effortlessly.

Felix’s vision, blurred from revisiting ghosts, focuses on the sharp edges of the table and a face that brings him comfort. Alythia gave him a reassuring look. 

“Thank you for inviting me to tea,” She says, reaching over to gingerly pour Almyran Pine into his cup. He silently cursed himself for not taking the first initiative. 

“It’s my turn for a change,” Felix replied nonchalantly. Though his legs still shook. He treads in uncharted waters.  
  
Since the first kiss, they stole more moments with each other. Sneaking affectionate pecks at dawn after sparring. Staying up past midnight to discuss debriefs that lead to tangents like Sylvain’s worrisome inventory of unused lipsticks. Though they avoided displaying public courtship, _everyone_ seemed to already catch on. The innocent questions about consolidating Alythia and Felix’s rooms from the house staff. The perverted remarks from Sylvain. The prodding questions from Ingrid. But the worst part was the mischievous smiles from his father. 

Alythia, either unaware or ignoring his anxiety, pulls out something wrapped in cloth. The sight of the familiar shape-- long and heavy-- halts the shaking leg. She slides it across the table and gestures for him to unwrap it. 

Without a word, he unravels the carefully bundled present. After peeling the last layer, he gawks at the sight of steel. Anyone who wields a blade would instantly recognize its value. It was unmistakable-- the pattern along the edge was forged by the swordsmith master, Zoltan.

“I found it at the traveling merchant’s,” said Alythia. “It is truly a fine blade for a fine swordmaster. I know you will use it well.” 

“I’m….” He cleared his voice, but it came out hoarse regardless. Felix paused before deciding to let his actions speak louder. “Here.” 

Felix pulls out a package that was balanced on his restless leg. Alythia raises a brow, perhaps surprised that Felix’s wrapping was neater than expected. Or maybe she was taken aback at the fact he went beyond the courtesy bouquet. His golden gaze never leaves her face, watching her unwrap the gift in anticipation and fear.

To his relief, she lights up. 

“Thank you,” Alythia says, positioning the pink headband on her head. She smooths her hair down and touches the velvet sash.

“Your hair has gotten longer,” Felix explains, now finally relaxed. He crosses his arms, “It suits you.”

“Happy birthday, Felix.”

“Happy birthday, Alythia.”

Faerghus was not a place of gardens and golden meadows. Though in recent years, Felix found warmth in this cold country. 


	13. 1884

**Year 4**

Clarion Hercinia

Alythia grimaces at the sound of the title. At a meeting, the villagers at the council’s public forum praised her with an epithet. Although she admired others’ designations, Byleth the Ashen Demon or Claude the Master Tactician, she had to admit that it made her uncomfortably unworthy. According to old legends, the hercinia was a bird with feathers that glow like fire at night. For no matter how dark the night, it illuminates against thick shadows to guide the lost and sullen. It was Alythia’s advice that helped light the way for many in these war-ridden years.

She’ll never get used to it, which was why  it was a surprise when she received a messenger bird addressed to the  _ Clarion Hercinia _ .

The distinct antler embellishment on the scroll and the bird, non-native to Fodlan, made the sender obvious. She didn’t need to read the letter to know what he was asking. 

An offer from Claude on behalf of the Alliance, growing stronger by the days. A promising position. An opportunity to leave the struggling Kingdom to establish a legacy. 

“There’s no purpose for allegiance to the dead, nor the dying,” said Felix after a morning spar. He recognized the foreign bird and connected the dots on his own. 

She touches her brother’s badge. A part of her never fully accepted Byleth’s death. 

Felix huffs and shoots her a dirty glare, “And what’s with your hair?”

After yesterday’s council meeting, Ingrid braided Alythia’s hair, fashioned into a style that mimicked her own. Her thick hair, now growing past her hips, was becoming more difficult to manage. Growing up without the presence of other women, Alythia never learned to do more than a lopsided updo. 

“It helps keep it out of the way.”   
  
“Well, I hate it.” He slides his sword into the sheathe and turns away.    
  
Alythia smiles. She knows he prefers it when she wears the headband.

“You should try it too.” Alythia replies nonchalantly.    
  
“I’ve no time to worry about trivial things--” Felix retorts, but quiets when Alythia comes for an embrace. She drapes her arms on his shoulders and his back suddenly feels hot. Despite courting each other for two years now, he was still easily embarrassed. 

“What are you--”   
  
“Worrying about trivial things,” She laughs, pulling bundles of his hair to form a side ponytail. Though Felix was more than capable of doing his own hair (as indicated by the bun he sported as a student), he laughed at the unevenly distributed weight he felt on his head. 

He didn’t need a mirror to know Alythia was absolutely terrible at this. 

“Ok,” said Felix, caressing her cheek. He leans down for a kiss and chuckles when she tiptoes to meet him. He’s grown much taller over the years.

“Every day. This will be your job now,” He says, feeling her smile form against his lips.

Felix cradles her against his chest and runs his fingers through her hair, untangling the abhorrent braid. His chin nests on top of her head and glances at the Alliance letter on the ground. 

Though the previous year was relatively peaceful, the Empire’s numbers began to multiply by the month. As much as he wanted them to live together blissfully, the prospects in Faerghus seemed bleak. At this point, it wasn’t a question of  _ if _ the Kingdom falls but  _ when _ .    
  
Before that time comes, he wishes Alythia to be elsewhere. His place was here but she had a future that couldn’t be wasted. 

As she sighs into his chest, Felix thinks about the last day he’d be able to hold her like this. 

But for now, he’ll cherish the moments they have. 


End file.
